5 Times, 1 Time: Natasha's Little Black Book
by tinuelena
Summary: "Five times Natasha got it in the front and one time she got it in the back." Prompt fill for avengerkink. Non-con warning for Loki's chapter. Natasha/Clint, Maria, Tony, Thor, Steve, Loki.
1. Clint

"You don't have to do this anymore."

Natasha stared at him through tear-filled eyes as she pictured her sister: this morning, alive and laughing. By nightfall, dead, a bullet through her brain because Clint Barton had showed up and saved the life of Natasha's target. But she was the famous Black Widow. She would not allow herself to cry, and she would not allow herself to give in and return to the United States with the assassin who'd been sent to kill her. "Go back to your country," she told him flatly, sneering at his bow. "Go back and take your medieval weapons. Is that the pinnacle of weapons technology in your part of the world?"

He ignored the insult. "Listen to me, Natasha. You can come back to the States with me, and we'll fold you into our organization. You don't need to work for men like Bagrov, men who threaten and blackmail."

"Like your boss never threatens?"

Clint pictured Fury. Oh, he threatened people. But not in the way Anton Bagrov did. "He'd never threaten your family, Natasha. And he'd never make you feel like you weren't able to walk away."

"Whoever your boss is threatening is someone's father. Or brother. Or son. Or… or sister."

"I'm sorry about your sister," Clint said quietly. "If I had known, I would have called in someone else from my team. We have people everywhere. We could have saved her."

She folded her hands. She was getting information, just as she wanted. "You're still out to kill."

For a moment, he wanted to ask her where she suddenly acquired a conscience, but thought better of it. "We're in the business of doing good. We exist to protect. Anyone we're going after has either killed a lot of people, or has a plan to do something disastrous. We don't kill people if we can help it; we'd rather bring them in."

"Were you all like me, then? Lost assassins?"

He chuckled softly. "No. And let me say, you're the first target that I've ever considered bringing back as an ally."

It all sounded wonderful- leaving the world of the Russian mafia behind, starting over in a new place with a new mission, putting her skill set to work for the good of the world. But she couldn't just abandon her family. Her little sister Nadya was still in the clutches of Bagrov's son, their one insurance policy that Natasha would continue doing their dirty work. Beneath her hard shell, her emotions fought with each other, threatening to ruin her composure.

Clint sensed her inner conflict and leaned forward, putting an arm around her for comfort. She recoiled violently, shoving him away.

"Hey. Sorry. It just looked like... it looked like you could use a friend."

She looked back at him, her eyes hard and unforgiving. "I'll come with you on one condition."

"What's that?"

"In the morning," Natasha said, "we regroup. And we go straight into the lion's den, and we kill them all. If I'm finished here, none of them will be alive to follow me."

"Deal."

xx

The next day, after the job was complete and they were washing the blood from their hands in a motel room, Natasha felt electrified. It was over. Nadya was free, and Clint had offered to give her a new identity and a chance to start fresh. She'd declined, but both sisters were in good spirits as Nadya boarded the train for Russia.

Natasha looked up at the mirror, at Clint, and saw something she loved and despised at once. This man was saving her. She couldn't stand the thought of being saved; she'd always relied on herself, and that's the way she liked it. But adrenaline rushed through her veins, and she couldn't hold back; before he knew what was going on, Natasha had him pushed against the wall, lips on his, fingers pulling at his uniform.

Who was he to say no? He dumped his quiver of arrows to the floor and kissed her hard.

Natasha had never really had a "type." She hadn't really given herself time to think about men, unless she was thinking about how to kill one. But if she had a type, it would be exactly what this man was: strong yet taciturn, and composed in the face of danger.

Their clothes hit the ground, and Clint picked her up, reversing their positions, pinning her against the wall. He slipped inside; there was no need for talk, only release. There were no words, just sounds: the slow drip of the faucet, the whir of the ceiling fan, the slap of flesh against flesh, their gasps and moans and ragged breaths.

When she let out that first low moan, it was the undoing of Clint, and he fought to keep it together until she came, shuddering against him; then he let go inside of her, wanting desperately to repeat her name, but doing so only inside his head, afraid to ruin the moment.

After it was over, he set her down gently; without a word, she walked right to the shower and shut the door.


	2. Maria

_Finally._ After weeks of being out of commission with a broken leg, Natasha had finally been cleared to hit the gym again. Back in her leotard, she went straight to the uneven bars, rubbing chalk on her hands.

Across from her, Maria Hill and Miguel Perez were locked in a wrestling match on the mat. He was a tall drink of water with a mean skill set in mixed martial arts. But Maria's quick thinking and good moves allowed her to outmaneuver her opponent. As Natasha curled her toes around the bottom bar and leaned toward the top, she watched the match with interest. Before long, Maria had him pinned. A smattering of agents applauded, and a few bills changed hands.

"Next?" Maria grinned, wiping her brow.

"All right, Agent Hill." Phil Coulson donned his headgear and walked onto the mat. Natasha had heard he was a national champion in college but, as soon as the match began, Maria took him to school, getting him in a headlock nearly right away. The surprise was evident on Coulson's face; he hadn't expected such a formidable opponent in Agent Hill. Natasha, meanwhile, was beginning to think this would be a fun challenge. As Phil hit the mat, so did Natasha.

"My turn," she said.

Maria let Coulson go and reclined on her heels. "Isn't this your first day back, Romanoff?"

"What fun would it be if I didn't get in on the action right away?"

"You aren't a wrestler," she protested.

Clint laughed. "She may not wrestle, Hill, but let me tell you- she can throw people around. You'll be surprised, I think."

Maria grabbed her bottle and took a swig of water. "All right, Romanoff. Head gear."

She put on the required protective gear and joined Maria on the mat. "Freestyle wrestling," Maria declared. "One period. Victory by fall only."

Coulson turned to Perez. "If she'd have called Greco-Roman, Hill might have had a chance. No leg holds allowed. But in freestyle? This will be a good contest."

"I've got ten bucks on Romanoff," Clint said.

Perez, still reeling from defeat, shook his head. "I'll take that bet."

The two women shook hands, and Perez blew a whistle to signal the start.

Maria wasted no time. She knew Natasha's weakness would be her ignorance of the sport. She predicted Natasha might wait for her to make the first move, and she was right; so she went right after her with a suplex throw, bear hugging her, propelling herself forward to land directly on top of Natasha on the mat. Natasha smirked and used her legs to grab Maria around the midsection, anchoring her hands to the mat, flipping Maria onto her back; but Maria's hands hit first, and her muscles strained as she tried to stop Natasha from pinning her shoulders down. She succeeded, and wriggled out from beneath her, getting back on her feet; Natasha matched her pose. _Big mistake._ Maria used a leg sweep, gripping Natasha's torso, chopping at her lower legs to kick them out from under her. She fell to the ground, but managed to grab Maria's legs before the pin could happen.

They kept going, for what seemed like hours but was really about eight minutes, until Maria, panting, _finally_ got Natasha on her back after another suplex throw and forced her shoulders to the mat, Natasha fighting every step of the way.

"Good match, Romanoff," Maria said, out of breath.

Natasha nodded. "You too, Hill."

They both decided they'd had enough for the day and hit the showers. Jess Borden and Alexandra Sauer were changing back into street clothes after their regular Thursday tennis match, and they greeted each other as they came in. Exhausted, Natasha grabbed a towel, stripped off her sweaty leotard, and headed to the showers.

Maria arrived not long after, hair down. She hung her towel and joined Natasha. "Impressive moves out there for a rookie."

Shrugging, Natasha leaned back and let the water run over her face.

Maria found herself watching Natasha's body, the way the little rivulets of water ran down her skin... mentally, she slapped herself. It was no secret around SHIELD that Maria was a lesbian, but she had a strict policy about dating- or ogling- co-workers. "Really, I mean it," she said, trying to distract herself. "If you learned the holds, you'd be able to beat me in no time flat. You've got the strength, and you can think on your feet."

"I pride myself on that skill," Natasha said, staring her down. "I also pride myself on being able to read people."

Maria stared at her blankly.

"You want me, Hill."

"I- I never said-"

"You didn't have to. You had me in a leg lock, you were wearing a thin little singlet, and you were inches from my face. You were so wet, I could practically taste you."

Maria flushed bright red. "Look. No matter what, I don't- _do_- things with my coworkers, so you don't have to worry-"

But Natasha was advancing, a determined look in her eye, and Maria knew her rule was about to be broken. No, shattered. Into thousands of little pieces. "I've never been with a woman before," she purred. "This is just a _day_ of firsts for me."

"Natasha-"

She dropped to her knees, ignoring the rough floor digging into her skin, and slipped her tongue between Maria's folds. Maria let out a gasp and stumbled, grabbing for the bar on the wall, needing something to support her. Just like on the wrestling mat, Natasha didn't shy from the challenge of something new; she dove right in, her tongue flat against Maria, licking ravenously.

Briefly, Maria wondered if Jess and Alexandra had left; as Natasha slipped a finger inside of her, she decided she didn't give a single fuck, and let out a deep moan. It didn't take long for Maria to come, arching against Natasha's relentless mouth, shuddering and gasping.

Natasha stood slowly, a smirk on her face, clearly satisfied with what she'd just done. But Maria was competitive in every field of play. She grabbed Natasha and, with another leg sweep, got her to the ground. "You've got to learn not to fall for that one," Maria growled, and slid three fingers inside of Natasha.

Natasha hadn't been expecting this; they filled her up, and when Maria started to move her fingertips back and forth, she cried out. And just when she thought it couldn't feel any better, Maria bent to reciprocate for the tongue-lashing Natasha had given her. The sensations overwhelmed her; she clawed at the rough shotcrete beneath her until her nails were ragged, gasped until she could barely draw air, and screamed when she came, clenching around Maria's fingers.

Maria sat back and licked her index finger clean. "I think we could have a lot of fun together, Romanoff."

Natasha just laid on the floor, panting, wondering if she'd ever catch her breath again.


	3. Tony

3. Tony

Natasha looked around herself with a piercing glare. In a childish, drunken rage, Tony Stark had just destroyed his house in a firefight with Colonel Rhodes. The latter had taken the second Iron Man suit and flew off, presumably to deliver it to the government. The former had passed out, and it had been _her_ job to get him out of the suit (with help from Jarvis).

Memories of the one-room shack she'd lived in when she was a small child in Russia fueled her anger. She and her siblings took care of the place as if it were a mansion. It was all they had. Tony Fucking Stark? This man actually _owned_ a mansion, and he destroyed it. For nothing.

Pepper had gone home. Happy was nowhere to be found. And Stark was her assignment. She was sure Fury would have words with him in the morning but, right now, this asshole was under _her_ control, and she was going to teach him a fucking lesson.

She left the half-destroyed deck and marched down to one of the few rooms that hadn't been completely obliterated. She'd left him there, locked up, after giving him an injection to sober his ass up. Hopefully it had worked, because she was good and pissed and ready to show him that he wasn't untouchable.

She threw open the door and came face-to-face with an incensed Tony Stark. "Who the hell do you think you are to lock me up in my own _house_-"

He was interrupted with a sharp slap to the face. "Who the hell do you think you are to take a piece of weapons technology like that and use it to break _wine bottles_ in your house?"

"Yeah, technically it was champagne."

"I don't give a fuck what it was, Stark. You're out of control."

"Excuse me, didn't I hire you to be my assistant? Not my baby-sitter?" He folded his arms.

"Actually, someone else hired me to be your baby-sitter. I'll be handing you over to him tomorrow."

"Who?"

"Don't worry about him. Right now, you have to worry about me."

He snorted with laughter. "I've seen your little Booty Boot Camp moves. I get it, you're agile. You can take down my- rather unathletic driver in a boxing ring. But you don't want to do this, honey."

She snarled. "Did you just call me "honey?"

"Do you prefer 'sweetheart?' 'Cupcake?'"

With a yell, she flew at him, tackling him to the ground.

Tony may not have had his suit on, but he had been trained to fight, and he blocked her punch and flipped her on her back. "I like this side of you, Miss Rushman."

She swung again, but he held her in place; she rocked back, wrapped her ankles around his neck, and took him down. "You have no idea what I'm capable of, Stark."

They fought tirelessly, until Natasha pinned him beneath her and felt him, hard, pressing right between her thighs. She glared down at him.

"I didn't put it there," he said, hands up. "You're the one who flipped me over. Pepper was right, fine, sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen... but you can't file a sexual harassment lawsuit against me. If anything, _I_ should be able to file one against _you_ for how you've got me pinned here... I just feel so violated and vulnerable here..."

She backhanded him as hard as she could swing, then pressed her lips to his.

Tony had no idea what was going on, but he didn't complain. She tore his shirt in half; the arc reactor glowed in the low light, and she traced the black lines on his chest. For a moment, she softened. "Looks painful."

"It's a tattoo."

"I can slow it down. Tomorrow."

Briefly, Tony wondered who he'd be meeting tomorrow, then decided he didn't care, as she pulled his pants down and pushed her dress up. Not bothering to take off her panties, she simply pushed them aside as she slid onto him. He was big, and hard, and pulsing, and suddenly she knew why girls lined up at his door.

"Couldn't resist me?" He smirked, and it was such an egotistical smile that she nearly hit him again.

"Fuck you."

"I think you're doing that."

She didn't say a word, just began to fuck him relentlessly. She watched his face closely; the smug look was quickly replaced by one of shock, and _she_ smirked as she realized that no one had ever fucked Tony like this. In fact, the prick was probably usually on top, taking what he wanted, not giving a shit about the pleasure of the woman in bed with him, just counting another notch in his bedpost...

That's how she'd punish him. She went harder, grinding her hips against him to catch the spot inside of her that set her on fire- before she knew it, she was coming _hard,_ shaking, her fingernails leaving their own marks on Tony's shoulders. His eyelids fluttered. "Natalie—God, I'm close—"And at that moment, she stood up.

Satisfied, she pulled her dress down. "See you tomorrow, Stark," she said, turning around and slamming the door behind her, leaving him unsatisfied on the floor.


	4. Thor

Thor was attempting to solve the mystery of a laptop, which Tony had given him to learn about Earth's culture and history, when Natasha appeared at the door. "Having troubles?"

"I do not know how to work this machine."

She closed the door, sat on the bed next to him, and shut the computer, placing it to the side. "Then forget about it for now. I wonder if Tony realizes that there are actual, tangible history _books_ that you could read."

"I would be grateful for that. Books are much more familiar."

"I'll see what I can do." She paused. What was she even doing here? How were you supposed to come on to a demi-god, anyway?

"You seem like you have something on your mind, Agent Romanoff."

She shook her head. "Call me Natasha, please."

"Natasha. Is something the matter?"

Her gaze was in her lap and she lifted her eyes to meet his. "All right, let me be completely honest with you. Ever since I've seen what you're capable of- in battle- I've had this burning desire to see what you're _capable_ of."

"I am afraid I do not understand."

She put a hand on his thigh. "In bed."

He stared back at her, covering her hand with his. "Natasha... I would be lying if I said I did not find you attractive. And believe me, there is nothing more I would love than to be able to lay you down in my bed and-" He sighed. "You have seen my strength. I would be afraid of hurting you."

Natasha's thighs clenched. _Oh God._ "That's exactly why I want it, Thor. You're the only man here who could hope to dominate me. I'm always in control of everything. Even if I'm on the bottom, I know I can easily be on top in seconds. But with you... I don't have that option. You're too strong for me. And if you're worried about hurting me... don't be. I... well. I like the pain."

"You are hard to resist," he said after a while, and Natasha could tell he was trying to restrain himself.

She licked her lips. "So don't."

The laptop crashed to the floor as he pushed her back onto the bed. She got a glimpse of his eyes before he ripped her shirt in half; they were glittering with a fierce hunger, something she hadn't seen in any human's eyes. It scared her and excited her at once. His lips crashed into hers, and he kissed up her neck with a soft growl, grazing his teeth over her skin.

He'd barely begun and she was overwhelmed; then her hands were pinned above her head and he was working on her jeans with the other, pushing them down as he bent to take a nipple in his mouth. Just for fun, she tried to move her hands; that wasn't an option. She shivered in delight at the thought of being helpless beneath him.

Once she was naked, he removed his own clothes, and Natasha couldn't help but stare. _He is a god,_ she thought. _I'm going to fuck a god._

He lifted her, pushing her higher up on the bed, and climbed over her. She ran her fingertips over his solid thigh, and wondered how bruised she'd be after this. Impatiently, she dug her nails into his legs. "Come on," she begged.

Thor smirked and thrust into her. Natasha cried out- he was big, _too_ big, but it felt fucking _glorious_ as he began to move. He trailed his fingertips down her arms, touching her so gently the hairs on her arm stood up; then, reaching her wrists, he grabbed them and pinned them above her head.

"Thor," she half-whispered, half-gasped. "Thor-"

He knew he had to keep himself under control, but watching Natasha move beneath him, hearing his name come from her lips like that- it was breaking him. He felt the familiar rush of blood, the sensations that came on like a flood.

Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. It was too intense, no, God, it was _incredible;_ it hurt, it _killed,_ but it was the best pain imaginable. With every thrust she thought she'd implode and, as she came closer and closer to coming, she didn't know if she could handle this long enough to reach orgasm. But Thor certainly wasn't going to let her go. And she didn't want him to stop. She wanted to push her limits.

"Natasha-"

"Thor, I'm close, I'm- I'm—_Thor!"_ And she was coming, _violently,_ shaking and grinning and crying and biting her lip, and he was coming too, and his hands were so tight around her wrists she thought all the bones would shatter.

They collapsed, feeling the adrenaline ebb, and Thor wrapped an arm around Natasha. "I hope I didn't hurt you."

At this, she grinned. "Oh, you did. But it was exactly—_exactly—_ what I wanted."

He smiled back.


	5. Steve

Natasha found out about Steve's virginity during a game of Never Have I Ever at Stark Tower. They were all slightly buzzed, with the exception of Thor and Steve, who didn't react to alcohol, and Steve dropped the bomb. _Never have I ever had sex. _While Natasha and Bruce quietly took a drink, Tony Fucking Stark _howled_ with laughter, and proceeded to make fun of him for the rest of the night. While he feigned nonchalance, Natasha could tell he was bothered.

"Hey," she said after the game, following him down the hallway. "It took balls to admit that in front of these guys."

Steve smiled and shrugged. "It's how you win the game, right? You bring up something that everyone else has done."

"I don't want to be insensitive or anything, but how'd that happen? A guy who looks like you... personal choice? Waiting for marriage?"

"I, uh..." He swallowed hard, thinking of Peggy, and willed himself not to cry. "I was... waiting for the right partner."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Do I qualify?"

"What?" His eyes got very wide.

Natasha moved closer, lacing her fingers into his. "I just thought... with all we've been through together... maybe it'd be best to have someone you know you can trust."

"Are you... Tasha, I- are you sure? I mean-"

She leaned forward and kissed him, slipping her tongue into his mouth, pressing him against the wall. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't find you attractive in that suit of yours," she whispered, and he smiled. "Come on. Let's go to my room."

Steve offered an arm, and she nearly giggled at the old-fashioned gesture. She was feeling very much not herself all of a sudden. And when they crawled under the covers and Steve began to gently kiss her, running his fingers through her hair, holding her close, she melted into him. It was different; she felt entirely safe with him, and not only because she was the partner with the experience. He was treating her as if she were fragile. With anyone else, she'd have felt insulted. With him, she felt almost _loved,_ and she hadn't felt like that... well, ever.

As he slowly took her clothes off, she closed her eyes and allowed herself the indulgence of imagining that Steve really did love her, that this was more than just a favor to an attractive virgin friend. Until now, she never really knew she needed love. She'd hardened herself against emotion; it was the way she survived. But maybe, just maybe, she could let Steve in... maybe she could allow one tiny crack in her armor...

And then she was lying there, naked, vulnerable, and that feeling of safety washed over her again as he took her in his arms.

His lips met hers again, and she broke her reverie to pull his shirt over his head and tug his pants and boxers off. His body, of course, was magnificent; still, his face was embarrassed and shy.

Natasha pulled him close. "Steve," she whispered, "you're going to be amazing."

"Are you sure?"

She smiled. "Absolutely."

"No," he said, flustered, "I meant- are you sure- are you sure you want to do this?"

When she looked at him, her eyes said it all. "More than anything."

He kissed her again and climbed over her.

Like no one else she'd had, he was tender and patient and attentive. When he tilted his hips and she bit her lower lip, he stayed in that position. He made sure she came first; and when she came, digging her fingernails into his thighs, he braced himself and took the pain. And again. And a third time. _Good God, how much stamina can this man have?_

"God," she gasped, her curls a mess, her chest flushed with afterglow. "Steve... are you close?"

He shook his head, still moving within her.

"I think," she managed to say, "that serum had some side effects..." Immediately, his face fell, and Natasha quickly added, "Good ones. I told you that you were going to be amazing. You're more than amazing. You're... you're unbelievable. But you've given me enough. It's your turn."

In a flash, she reversed their position, and her powerful thighs went to work. Nothing could have prepared him for what Natasha could do, and he was coming within minutes, moaning her name. After, she stayed where she was, smiling.

"Wow. Tasha... Tasha, I-"

She held her breath, waiting for the last two words.

"Thank you," he said awkwardly, and she felt her chest collapse.

Later that night, she curled up in her empty bed, and wondered if she'd ever have him there again.


	6. Loki

When Loki escaped Asgard, it was with one thought in mind.

The Avengers weren't really a problem. Sure, the green monster flung him around, but he was a demi-god. It gave him a few little cuts and knocked the wind out of him. He wouldn't be able to kill him. Iron Man was just a mouthy child who needed an attitude adjustment once he was out of his suit. The guy with the shield? Strong, but mortal, and far too _good_ to outwit him. Clint Barton? Well, he proved he could be useful, if he was controlled.

But she had taken that control.

It was the woman who was the problem. She had taken Barton and returned him to normal. She had closed the portal. She was the one who needed to be dealt with.

Natasha Romanoff.

Lucky for him, he knew exactly where to find her.

As he broke into Stark Tower, new home of the Avengers, he waited for the telltale thunder that would warn him that his brother was coming. But no storm came. Grinning, he realized he'd gotten away with it- at least for now. Soon, the guards would realize their prisoner was gone, and Thor would know he'd gone to his precious Midgard. But the damage would already be done.

She'd snuck up on him while he was imprisoned; now it was his turn. He crept into her room, absolutely silent, careful not to even breathe. She was sleeping on her back, one arm beneath her pillow, one lying at her side. His arms shot out to pin her to the bed; she woke up and tried to kick him, but he was over her before she could fight, his knees immobilizing her legs.

"We are going to keep you quiet," he whispered, producing the gag he wore when he left Earth. "I do not want your friends interrupting us."

She fought and struggled beneath him, but it was useless. He, like Thor, was a demi-god, and she knew all too well how strong they were. She wasn't going anywhere.

He bent to whisper in her ear. "You are almost more trouble than you are worth." Smirking, he reached between her legs and grabbed. "Almost."

Natasha glared at him and pushed with all the force she could muster, but he didn't move.

He stood, and that gave her all the time she needed to spring to her feet; he predicted it and caught her, ripping her T-shirt in half with ease, and pushed her back onto the bed, hand around her neck. He grabbed her panties in his fist and tore them straight from her body. As he came back over her, he used the same magic he'd used to change clothes in Germany to remove his own clothes.

She looked disgusted, and this pleased him; he held her shoulders down and pressed his tongue against her body, licking her from between her breasts to her ear. "You are going to serve me," he whispered. Beneath him, she shuddered in revulsion. "You are nothing compared to me."

Normally, he would have drawn out the torture, using his tongue to explore every forbidden place, touching her as gently as a lover might. But, knowing his time was short, he forced his way inside of her. She tried to scream, but the gag kept her silent; he began to thrust.

She felt _so_ good around him, made even better by the fact that she still struggled against him. He watched her, saw the hatred in her eyes, and grinned.

"Do you not see? I am better than all of you. _I_ am superior to your little team. And to you."

She glared at him, trying to form words around the gag.

"Do you have something to say?"

She nodded, and Loki removed the gag.

"Your brother was better," she spat.

He stared back at her, then laughed. "You had my brother?"

"Yes." She strained against him, delivering what she knew would be the ultimate insult. "And he was better than you could ever hope to be."

Loki bent down so that his face was inches from hers. The smirk, the one she hated so much, spread slowly over his face until it was a grin. "If I cannot best my brother, then let us see if I can cause more pain than he did." He grabbed her arm and turned her over, with so much force she swore she could feel her shoulder separate from the socket; then, with only the wetness she'd provided, he forced his way inside of her ass.

His hand over her mouth muffled her screams, and he dearly hoped his fingers would leave bruises on her jaw. While his brother had held back in order to not hurt Natasha, he put all his strength into fucking her as hard as he possibly could. Tears soaked her pillow; she could take almost anything, but this, this was too much; it was humiliating, it was excruciating, and she knew she'd been broken.

Thunder split the silence; Thor was on his way, but Loki was nearly finished.

When he pulled out after coming, he was covered in blood. He grinned again and wiped it off with her torn shirt. "Next time we meet, Natasha Romanoff," he spat, throwing the cloth at her, "remember this."

She would never forget those eyes. Ever.


End file.
